Coming Nome: Naomi's Journal
by garden-nomes
Summary: AU story, set around Coming Home. Naomi's journal entries after leavin Bristol, five years before Gina's death. Rated M for language/themes.


**A/N: So, when I posted Emily's letter to Naomi, I didn't really think about writing Naomi's side of the months after she left Bristol. But the more I thought about it since then... How could I not? It's a bit repetitive, haphazard and self loathing at times, but that's Naomi... It only covers a couple of months, and it's explained why in the last entry.**

**Angst Warning™ applies.**

**On with it...**

**Disclaimer: I do not own skins. Just an active imagination. Any and all typos, yada yada yada...**

* * *

><p><strong><span>(Naomi POV)<span>**

Tuesday, 1st September, 2009:

Well, I've just moved into the halls here at Goldsmith's after spending a few nights in a cheap youth hostel on Queen's Road. Thankfully it's blissfully devoid of fucking German tourists and that Australian bloke who thought he had a chance at shagging me. I think after the third time I'd blown him off with a kick to his crotch that he got the message, loud and clear.

The accommodation here is basic, typical student lodgings, one would assume, but right now I don't really care, so long as I have a roof over my head that's closer to where I need to be, and further away from what I've left behind, it'll do me just fine. I don't have a room mate as yet, and I'm hoping it stays that way. I need some time alone, because I am still feeling like total shit, and can do without the whole "getting to know you" bullshit that will inevitably arise when the other half of my room is filled. I'll have to get a new sim for my phone at some point, and no doubt, the shit has already hit the fan back in Bristol.

I know she will have tried to get a hold of me. And I know I left it a mess, and left my mum to explain it to her. I know I have been a total coward in keeping my plans a secret from Emily all this time. I don't even want to think of how upset she will be. And I know she'll be upset... We know each other too well.

I still remember the look in her eyes the last night we were together. So wide eyed and full of love. The way she felt against me, the way she just cuddled into my arms. Her lips against my skin, and mine against hers.

Christ, why am I thinking shout this shit now? What's done is done, Campbell... Nothing will change it. Fuck it, I'm going to explore the halls a bit and maybe take a shower.

Saturday, 5th September, 2009:

Fuck me, I have a raging hangover, so I don't know how much I'm going to write. Last night there was a welcome party on my floor, and all the new students were welcome to attend. There was a shedload of booze, and of course, us all being students, there were a few about who had a little chemical help on offer. Thank Christ classes don't start till Monday, I think I'll need both today and tomorrow to recover. My brain feels like there's a jackhammer that's taken up residence, and my stomach has felt less nauseous.

Fuck...gotta go puke again.

Sunday, 6th September, 2009:

Wasn't up to writing any more yesterday. After puking, I promptly fell back into my bed and blocked out the rest of the world for the day, slowly sipping water in between bouts of some serious napping. Oh, except for that one moment when some wanker came knocking on the door looking for someone named Clara, but I told them they had the wrong room.

Anyway... I got so shitfaced on some bloody awful jungle juice punch on Friday night, adding to that a pill that some girl slipped me amidst a very messy kiss. I didn't think the rush had hit me that quickly, maybe it was just how drunk I already was, but I did for a moment think that it was Emily who was kissing me, and that sort of put an abrupt downer on my situation for a moment. I ended up on a balcony somewhere, just sitting in the dark, the full reality of what I've done hitting me head on. Even if I did call Emily and apologise, she'd never forgive me. Of course, I have to forgive myself first, and that isn't happening any time soon. I've done a really shitty thing, to the both of us, and killed everything good I had. There are no pieces left for me to pick up in Bristol. No, I've burned that bridge, I think.

It's bad enough I'm going to incur Gina's wrath when I finally call her. She really likes Emily... Thinks she is good for me. She said that she's never seen me happier than when I talk about her...TALKED about her. Damn it, I need to stop thinking in the present tense. I left her, for her own good. I'm not worthy of her love when I can't sort out my own head and how I feel about her. I mean... I know I love her, but... _Christ_.

Anyway... Classes start tomorrow, so I'd better get my shit sorted for the orientation sessions.

Tuesday, 8th September, 2009:

Well, my peace and quiet in this room has been shattered. My room mate turned up yesterday. A girl from Liverpool called Trixie. God knows how she got that name, but her nasal scouse accent drives me fucking bananas. She's studying science or something, I didn't really care to pay enough attention to her when she was talking drivel. I can't imagine how a girl that talks that much bollocks can be intelligent enough to study science. And I thought Pandora was bad.

Orientation day went alright. Got a list of all my classes, and I'm going to be busy for the next few weeks. I have to get myself registered at the library, which is what I'm going to do after I'm done writing in here. Wednesday seems to be my free day, apart from the weekend of course, but the rest of my days are classes and tutorials from nine in the morning until about six at night. God, who'd be a fucking uni student, right? The coursework looks pretty in depth, and some of the texts I'm going to have to chase up at the library. I've also got to see about finding myself a part time job. There's a twenty four hour supermarket I saw not far from the campus that had a help wanted sign in the window, so after the library I'll go and check it out. Accommodation is paid for here as part of tuition, but it would still be nice to have a little extra cash on hand... The food in the cafeteria is a bit on the ghastly side.

At least all the study and potential job will give me a distraction from thinking about Emily. I can't say the same for her, anyway, I expect she'll be having a blast in Goa soon enough. It'll give her a chance to forget about me...she might see that maybe we weren't meant to be after all.

But really, I know I'm kidding myself by thinking that. Still, it's easier for me than agonising over how much I've hurt her. It makes me feel as though there's less of an ache in the pit of my stomach. I know it's regret. I do regret leaving. But...I can't go back. The person I was is gone now. I am Naomi Campbell, single woman shacked up with a budding scouser scientist!

God...kill me now.

Friday, 11th September, 2009:

So, I went to see about the job at the supermarket. It's run by a middle aged man named Harry. I told him I didn't have much experience as a cashier, but didn't mind stocking shelves, or whatever else needed doing. He said he'd give me a trial run for a night, and that night is tonight. I've just popped in for a shower, and spent five excruciating minutes listening to Trixie bang on about something to do with some hot guy she's got a crush on in her class. Apparently he's "well fit" and if her suspicion is correct, "hung like a horse".

Dear god, it's like living with Katie fucking Fitch.

Speaking of, the Fitch Bitch must be wanting to punch my face in right now. I'd gladly let her, actually... Because really, I've been such a cunt to her sister. I can't even begin to think why I did it. We could've worked it out...couldn't we? Why is it hindsight that always makes you think more rationally?

I can't even work out if it's hindsight, or the fact that I miss her so much that I feel like I'm aching all over. Maybe a little of both, who knows. I wish I could just see her again. Call her. Talk to her. But that would make a terrible situation worse, I think. No...best leave it be.

I'd better go, or I'll be late.

Monday, 14th September, 2009:

I'm not neglecting this, I swear. The trial at the supermarket went ok. Harry gave me a job working five hours from seven til midnight three nights a week, with weekends off. So, that's money sorted for now, and it will still give me time to study on weekends and Wednesdays during the day, and Tuesdays and Thursdays at night after lectures. And the supermarket is only a five minute walk from campus, so that means I'm not rushing to get ready after classes for either a long walk or long commute.

Came home Friday night to find Trixie shagging the hot "hung like a horse" boy from her classes. Yuk. Went back out again and ended up at one of the uni bars, sitting in a booth in a corner drinking a couple of pints until I decided it was safe to go home. Didn't do me much good, anyway, all I did was think about Emily, what she was doing, who she might be with... I had to try hard to snap myself out of it and remind myself she wasn't mine to worry about anymore.

And then I got melancholy about being the one who had put myself in this position. Another pint to drown out the self pity, and I eventually staggered back to my room legless enough to not give a flying fuck about anyone, let alone one Emily Fitch.

Speaking of, I finally got around to calling mum yesterday. I wish I'd left it longer, some how, all she did was give me a good serving about how I'd broken Emily's heart. I knew that might have been a possibility, but...FUCK. To know that I've devastated her upset me more than I thought it would. I just let mum rant on at me, before finally interrupting her and just telling her not to tell anyone where I'd gone, and not to give anyone my new number, before hanging up.

I then spent the rest of yesterday curled up under my duvet, feeling completely wretched and like more of a total cunt for what I'd done to Emily. I never meant to hurt her like that.

No, that's bollocks, because I wouldn't have left, if I didn't mean to hurt her. I just didn't think it would break her heart that much. But fuck, she's been in love with me forever, hasn't she? And before...she's always had her love for me (and I, my love for her) to bring us back together, but now, I'd deserted her. I'd been stubborn and stupid, and I don't know if I can ever make it right ever again. She probably hates me for what I've done to her, and I deserve every ounce of it.

Then, in the midst of my self pity, fucking Trixie gets in. She tried to get me to tell her what was wrong, but I ended up just yelling at her to fuck off and go and sit on Horse Boy's dick and to leave me the fuck alone. After I heard the door shut, I just started crying again. I don't think I've ever felt this mopey and horrible, not even when things between Emily and I were complete shit. Can't really get any more shit than this, can it? Miles apart, and I refuse to let her back in. Why must the one thing I love above everything be the one thing that can break me into a million pieces? Why did I have to give her up, when it makes me so utterly miserable? My heart feels like it bleeds more every day, and I feel like I've had my soul ripped out. Hearing that she's in as bad a way as I am doesn't help at all. It makes it so much worse, because I'm responsible for it.

It's late, and I need to sleep. At least Trixie is out for the night. I think she's avoiding me...

Wednesday, 16th September, 2009:

In hindsight, I can sort of see why Gina's so pissed off at me. She really likes Emily. I know she'll get over it eventually. So will I, I suppose. Maybe even Emily will, in time.

At least, that's what I tell myself... What I have to tell myself. To try and kid myself that it will all be alright, in the end. Because, deep down inside, I know I've done something irreversible. I tell myself that it's better this way. I try and get in with things. This feeling like total shut thing will pass. That's the lie that I'm telling myself. Because giving into the grief I'm feeling... It's not an option. Neither is going back to Bristol. Ever forward, that's where Naomi Campbell is headed. Business degree...minor in a language...French, perhaps, at this point. I always liked the way Pinot Grigio rolled off the tongue.

Pinot Grigio... Sigh. Now, of course, it just makes me think of the tenderness of Emily's lips against my own...which just makes me miserable. Just the drugs, what a fucking joke. It's not the memory that makes me miserable, but what a total cunt I was to her at the time, and what a total cunt I've been since.

Sometimes, lately, I wish I could go back and change things. Not hurt her so much, not be such a fucking coward. Not be stupid enough to cheat on her and think she'd never find out.

God, I really AM a terrible person.

I think about how she must be coping, and it makes me feel worse than miserable. It's like I can imagine the look in her beautiful brown eyes, and it make my heart ache even more. But, it's a feeling I totally deserve. It's not the first time I've been the thing that's upset her, but it'll be the last time I ever will be. I can never go back to Bristol. I know this. There is too much of a likelihood of me running into her there. I can't face her after what I've done, I know she's upset, it's sort of like I can feel it, under my brave face and stony exterior.

As good as it might make me feel...to see her again... I just...can't.

Wednesday, 7th October, 2009:

I've barely had any time to rest, let alone write in this thing. Uni has been busy. Work has been the same. Trixie moved out, or dropped out...I don't know, and I can't say I really care much, either. But, at least I have the room to myself again. It would be great if there was a prospect of me shagging anyone, but not only am I too busy for horizontal pursuits, I am not sure I can. I don't really fancy anyone, though that's because I've been self absorbed and not paid much attention to anyone. I've never been a big fan of self help, a lot of the time it's because it's felt a bit ridiculous to me, and the other thing is... I'd only think about Emily, which makes me miserable normally, so if I thought of her in a "self help" sense, I know it might well get me off, but...I don't know... I feel like the guilt would grip me all over again, and it would just make me think of things I'm trying to forget, and would end in tears, as if I'm a total saddo. No thanks.

Besides, she's probably found some attractive girl with not as many hang ups about relationships and being gay as I do... No, the SS Emily has most likely sailed... And I'm the sad fucker still standing on the docks ignoring it as it steams away.

Anyway...I should get some sleep. Long day tomorrow.

Saturday, 10th October, 2009:

Another update. Work ok. Classes ok. I've had a paper to write for my introduction to business ethics class, which is halfway done. Some of my fellow workers at the supermarket roped me into going out for drinks last night after work. I could tell they wanted to know more about me, but I didn't tell them too much, other than the fact I wasn't from London and I was studying at uni. I don't think I'm ready for the whole "getting to know you" bit with new people, just yet. I was never really one for socialising, anyway, and I only went to be polite. I stayed for one drink, and then left, saying I had somewhere to be in the morning. A lie, of course, but I just didn't feel comfortable being there. I ended up just walking through the streets for a long time, thinking. I just have waked for an hour or more, maybe two. In the end, I got myself a bottle of cheap vodka, and just went back to the halls and sat in my room on my bed, drinking alone. Call it sad, but I really don't give a fuck, and I only drank until I fell asleep, anyway. At least I didn't feel so shit for a little while.

I've been trying not to think about Emily. Of course, now that I've said that, I think about her. But it just seems easier that way... I feel miserable as it is, really low...lower than I've felt in a long time, maybe when I first told Emily how I felt about her? I don't know, I just feel dead inside. I'm trying so hard to focus on my studies, and for the most part I can, but there are times when I find it very hard. It's been over a month since I last saw her, and most times I just feel lonely. I think I am lonelier than I've ever been, even when I was snobbing her off all that time. I know now, that what I did... It was really the _wrong_ thing to do. But now... I'm not sure I can ever go back and change it. I guess I'm a coward in that respect, too. I was too much of a coward to stay, or to try and even work the long distance logistics of it out so that I could continue to be with her. Maybe I was too afraid of hurting her, because I've already hurt her so much. I didn't want to be _that_ person again. I guess it's like that, when you break the trust and heart of the person who you love the most.

God, I'm such a fucking idiot, aren't I? Problem is, I'm too stop unborn to try and change it. Even mum said that when I called her yesterday. Oh year, I called mum yesterday. She says Emily has been around a few times, and is miserable. She thinks she only comes around because she feels closer tome there. I guess she has t moved on, then. Mum asked me if I knew how much I'd hurt her, and I didn't really answer her. I guess it just hit home more, to know that she isn't getting over me. On the one hand, I wish she would, I wish she w ould just find someone to be happy with... But then, I realise it was me she was happy with, and it's been that way since we were kids.

Really, what can I do? I told mum I didn't want to hear about it anymore, right before I told her I'd call her in a few days. She also asked if I would go bs k for Christmas, but I told her I wasn't sure at this stage. I think it's unlikely that I will. I'm not sure I can. I d int want to run the risk of Emily turning up... I know how horrible her family is, and I know Christmas at Casa del Fitch will be a horrid affair for her, what with Jenna and Katie and how they think her homosexuality is just a phase... Christ, I can tell you it isn't...that girl has been gay since she knew what was under a girl's clothes...

**_GGRR_**...why can't I stop thinking about her?! It makes me totally fucking miserable, and all it does in the end is turn me into a blubbering twat... But I _miss_ her. I miss her eyes, her smile, her voice, her laugh... The way she looks at me like I'm the only person in the world for her, the way she brushes fluff off my shoulder, and the way she just _is_... And the touch of her fingers against my skin...her lips... God, her everything... I miss touching her, I miss the feel of her under my fingertips, in my arms, nuzzled into my neck...FUCK! Why the fuck did I leave that?! I'm such a fucking dickhead to have done that, and my misery is my own fault. I want to talk to her, to have her rage at me for leaving and then just bury her in my arms and just...hold her and whisper to her how fucking sorry I am for deserting her. She fucking adored me, and I her, and I just... Didn't care. I left anyway. I could have saved that...the only person who loves me besides my mum... I was a total idiot to give that up... I don't think I'll ever stop loving her... Why must you be such a stubborn fucking _**CUNT**_, Naomi?!

I wish I understood myself, but right now... I don't. All people want is to be happy, right? So why did I take the one thing that made me happy and run so far away from it? Why did I break both her heart, and mine?

Fuck it, now I can't stop crying.

Saturday, 14th November, 2009:

Uni has been busy, which is no surprise, there's a lot to get a grasp of, being first year, and all. I've had to focus on it, because I don't want to fail. I want a degree, you know? Even if to say that leaving my home and everything behind was a good thing. No time for thinking of past things, lately.

I haven't called mum, much, which I'm sure annoys her to no end. She leaves messages and asks me to call, but... It's just too hard, sometimes. I'm kind of good not hearings bout what's been going in in Bristol...and with the things I'm trying to forget.

I've made a couple of friends...sort of. We're in the same tutorial group, so I suppose friendship, or acquaintanceship is sort of de rigueur, as it were. They're nice enough... There's a girl named May, and a boy named John. What I like about them, is it's all about the coursework with them, they don't ask about my personal life (non existent), nor about where I came from. The people I work with have kind of left me alone, after they figured out I wasn't going to divulge the info they wanted (who I was into, who I'd shagged, etc), they even stopped inviting me for drinks after work. Ah nine else, I suppose, would be offended, not me. I'm glad they're leaving me alone. I've no personal life to speak of, and even if I did have one, I wouldn't tell them, anyway.

I attend classes, I study, I work, and then I go home and I drink. Pretty much it. I'm probably doing my liver a disservice by doing so, but what the fuck...I am young, and so long as I get it out of my system before I have to enter the real world of boring corporate hell, what's the problem? Gina would probably slap the shit out of me if she could see me, right now. Half a bottle of cheap vodka drunk already, and lying on the floor on my stomach writing in this stupid thing. I'll probably end up passing out soon with my face up against the pages. Sometimes, I wish I would just not wake up...I feel like a fucking robot a lot of the time... I don't let people in, and I feel lonelier because of it.

I know it's not right to blame Emily for this. I haven't seen her, nor spoken to her in weeks, and none of this is her doing, it's just that the way I feel is so...I don't know, rooted in her. It always has been, since forever ago. Want to call her. Badly. Want to talk to her and tell her how sorry I am. Know I won't. Am a fucking coward, aren't i? Screw it. Just wish...so much... wish I could turn back the clock. I'm sorry, Ems... Really, I am. I just want to see you again. I want to drown in you...drowning in myself... that feels like shit... Just wanna...fuckit...

Tuesday, January 5th, 2010:

Christ. I don't really remember much about the last time I wrote in here. All I remember is, I lost this journal for a while, and found it under my bed, in the end. What can I say, I went through some rough weeks after that. I drank...and drank...and then drank some more. Somehow, I managed to survive the end of term assignments, and pass... But then the rest of it is a real haze. I didn't go back to Bristol for Christmas... Much to Gina's disappointment. I didn't explain to her why, as such. Just told her I didn't have the money to travel, and she was upset because it was the first Christmas we haven't had together, like, ever.

But anyway, one of my New Year's resolutions, which I never really make or stick to, was to try and make a fresh start. Free of all the shit in the past... Which means a couple of things. I need to move on from the whole Emily thing. I can't say I'm going to find a new partner, I'm ok without one at the moment, I sort of like being free and independent, I think it's good for me. If someone comes along, be it a boy or a girl, and something happens, well, so be it, but I'm not ready to up jump into anything.

The other resolution, comes at the prompting of my new roommate Maxxie, who, by the way, is a lovely gay boy with hair blonder than mine, and a loving personality. Anyway, he's concerned that I drink too much, which is probably true... so I've given it up. Haven't had a drink since New Year's. Planning to stick to it...and moving on will help with that.

The other thing is... This journal was helpful to start with... I think...I let Maxxie read it, and he can see that I've had issues, and is willing to lend an ear if I need it. He really is a sweet guy, and it's also good to know he's not trying to get into my knickers, so... Ha.

Anyway... He suggests that in moving on with things, I should maybe not write in here anymore, and I kind of agree with him. I know it was meant to be an outlet at first, but the more I write in it, the more I dwell, and the more it makes me angry and not what I need to be. So... I guess this is it. It's been... Well, it's been. Not fun, not grand... Just..._there_, hasn't it?

One step at a time, that's how I'm taking it. It's all I can do...right?

Naomi. xoxo

* * *

><p><strong>AN#2: So, that's it. Whether Emily and Naomi get to read both the journal and the letter is a mystery so far, I guess we will have to see how ****_Coming Home_**** pans out.**

**Thanks for reading, review if you wish!**

**Cheers,**

**~GN~ xo**


End file.
